She deserves justice. She deserves peace.
I just don't know which path gives her both.
"We have forty-eight hours," Vito says finally. "Use them. Gather intel on Liam. Verify his claims. Prepare for both scenarios—the deal and the war." He looks at each of us in turn. "And someone needs to tell Elena. She has a right to know what's coming."
"I'll tell her," I say. "But I'm not pushing her to decide. She gets as much time as she needs."
"Agreed." Vito stands, signaling the meeting's over. "Keep me updated. And Marco? Watch your back. If Liam is setting a trap, Elena might still be a target."
The words send ice through my veins. I'd die before I let anyone hurt her again.
I head back downstairs, my mind spinning with everything I need to tell Elena. About Liam. About the deal. About the choice we're facing.
But when I walk into my apartment, she's asleep on the couch. Curled up with one of her plant care books. Looking peaceful for the first time in days.
I don't have the heart to wake her. Not yet.
So I sit in the chair across from her and watch her sleep. Trying to figure out how to tell her that the nightmare isn't over.
That it might be just beginning.
CHAPTER 39
Elena
"Areyou sure you're ready for this?"
Marco's hand hovers near my lower back—close enough to offer support but not touching. Giving me the choice. Always giving me the choice now.
I stare at the heavy metal door in front of us. Behind it is Ronan. Broken and beaten and waiting.
"Yeah," I say. My voice sounds steadier than I feel. "I need to do this."
"You don't have to?—"
"I know." I look up at him. "But I want to. Before I decide about Liam's deal, I need to know what kind of man Liam really is. And the only person who can tell me that is in there."
Marco studies my face for a long moment. Whatever he sees must satisfy him because he nods and pulls out his keys.
The lock clicks. The door swings open with a metallic groan.
The smell hits me first—blood and sweat and human waste. My stomach turns but I force myself to step inside.
Ronan is chained to a chair in the center of the cell. His face is a mess of purple and black. One eye is swollen completelyshut. Blood crusts around his nose and mouth. His breathing is labored and wet.
Dante's been busy.
I should feel something seeing him like this. Satisfaction maybe. Or vindication. Instead, I just feel... numb. Like I'm watching this happen to someone else.
"Well, well." Ronan's voice is a rasp. He tries to lift his head but the effort makes him cough. Blood spatters onto his chest. "The little bird came to visit."
I don't respond. Just move closer until I'm standing directly in front of him.
"I have questions," I say. "About Liam Costello."
That gets a reaction. Ronan's working eye widens slightly before he lets out a wet laugh. "Liam? What's that traitor got to do with anything?"
"Answer the question. What kind of man is he?"
